Green Thumb
by PhantomPenguin
Summary: There had to be someone Galinda knew who fit the qualifications of the term...


**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing associated with the Wizard of Oz or Wicked.**

This is one of the more pointless stories that I've written, but I'm rather fond of it. The idea came to me when I was bored and watching a Kristin Chenoweth interview on YouTube…she had given Ellen some flowers and made a comment about not having a "green thumb." So, my Wicked-obsessed brain took Kristin and green thumb and came up with…this =D

Enjoy, and please review!

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"Grow!" Galinda jabbed at the patch of dirt in the pot with her watering can. Water slopped over the side, and Galinda sighed and plunked the heavy green can on the ground. "Why won't you grow?" she wailed.

It had been two weeks since she had planted the seeds and nothing had sprouted. Two _weeks_. It wouldn't bother her so much if she didn't actually want the flowers, but they were _imperative_ to her survival; they not only made the nicest addition to the room décor, but were also _the_ ozmopolitan thing to be doing this month.

"Oh, why won't you grow, flowers?" Galinda cried mournfully, glaring at the offending and nonexistent plants. "It's not like I'm mean to you! I water you, I let you sit on the windowsill (and I had to _beg _Elphie to give it up), I talk to you—I even decorated your pots!" And she had; the pots lined up along the windowsill each had been painted a different shade of pink or purple. The daisies were planted in a magenta pot, the tulips in a pot of the most lurid bubblegum, the roses in a lilac pot, and the lilacs in a rose pot.

However, the colorful containers didn't seem to be helping the growing progress at all. If her previous attempt at gardening hadn't failed as well, Galinda might have been able to pass the seeds' lack of growth as a spot of bad luck; last month, however, when vegetable gardens had been the height of "in," Galinda had immediately gone out and purchased a tomato plant, a bean stalk, a pepper plant, and an asparagus plant. Within five minutes of their being in the dorm, the beans had immediately withered and died; the tomato and pepper plants soon followed suit.

The only thing to survive had been the asparagus, and Galinda had been so upset with her other failed attempts that she had thrown it out the window, with Elphaba watching on in amused satisfaction.

Now, Galinda glared down at her empty pots. "Plants, I am not going to tell you again! You need to grow!" The seeds apparently had different ideas, and the soil remained brown and barren.

She pouted, oblivious to the fact that the plants could neither see nor hear her. "How dare you, plants! How would it look if I, Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands, could not succeed in being ozmopolitan?"

The terrible thought made her freeze as her imagination ran away from her.

An idea suddenly occurred to her and she dashed over to her bed to retrieve her training wand. Why hadn't it occured to her before? Eyes narrowed, Galinda turned and padded back to the window ledge, leveling her wand at the offending pots.

"Grow!" she commanded, flicking her wand slightly.

The plant-less status of the pots remained unchanged.

"Grow!" she insisted, thrusting the wand towards the pots.

There was still no change.

"Grow?" Her voice lost its authoritative tone and adopted a slight tremor. Blue eyes shining with disappointment, Galinda flung the wand behind her. "Useless," she muttered.

It was time to go to plan B (or was it plan G? She had lost track).

Kneeling before the windowsill so that she was on eye level with the pots, she clasped her hands in front of her. "Please, most darling and beloved plants…please grow," she begged. "You must!" Galinda channeled every positive, growth-inducing thought that she could towards the shriveled little seeds in the soil.

A knock at the door startled her out of her meditation. "The door's open!" she called, not breaking eye contact with the soil.

Fiyero pushed open the door and entered, leaning casually on the doorframe. "I came by to see if you wanted to go to lunch." His open-ended statement was ignored by Galinda, who was locked in a staring contest with the pots, determined to look away only when something grew.

Not used to being ignored, Fiyero stepped towards Galinda. As he stumbled over the discarded training wand he realized what it was that must be bothering her.

"Are the plants not growing well?" he asked, eyes dancing with suppressed mirth as he took in the sight before him. Galinda Upland, dirt caked on her hands, was kneeling in front of a row of plant-less pots, willing sprouts of green to appear.

"No," Galinda said grumpily. "They're not."

"I gathered as much." He smirked. "How long has it been since you planted them?" He rocked back on his heels and glanced out the window at the bright sky, waiting for her answer.

"Two and a half weeks, three hours, forty-three minutes, and fifty-seven seconds." Galinda said matter-of-factly, turning on her knees to face him.

He laughed at that. "Galinda," he said, "perhaps you just aren't meant to be a gardener."

This was an alien though to Galinda, and she looked at him, horrified. "But, Fiyero, dearest, I _have _to be a gardener. _Ozmo _magazine and my popularity demand it!" She let him sit with that thought for a minute before realizing the futility of her effort and bursting into tears. "Oh, Fiyero, I can't do it!" She buried her face in her hands. "I just _can't_!"

Fiyero knelt and took her hands in his. "Galinda, it's okay. You don't have to grow plants to be ozmopolitan! I mean, _Ozmo _changes what's ozmopolitan every month. Besides, you're already the most popular girl on campus." He drew her into a hug. "And," he added with a smirk, "you're dating me."

She gazed up at him with tear-filled blue eyes, lip trembling. "But, Fiyero, that's just it! If I can't garden, then I _won't _be the most popular girl on campus."

Sighing, Fiyero released her and sat back on his heels. "As much as it pains me to be the voice of common sense, Galinda, I have to tell you that it's pretty evident that you just aren't made to grow flowers." She continued to look dejected, so he felt compelled to add something. "Not everybody can have a green thumb."

That caught Galinda's attention. Her head shot up, her tears forgotten. "Green thumb?" she inquired.

"Yeah, you know, like a person who is a fantastic gardener has a "green thumb" of sorts. They have a sort of magic touch with plants." He grinned at her amazed expression. "You've honestly never heard the term before? Galinda—"

But Galinda had stopped listening, her hope of remaining ozmopolitan restored in full. A plan had begun to take root in her head.

Fiyero, noting the glazed look in her eyes, stood up and turned to the door. "Well, I'm going to go to lunch..." he trailed off. "I guess I'll see you later, Galinda. Good luck with the plants!"

"Bye dearest!" Galinda called to his retreating back, her eyes still unfocused. Green thumb…the term ran through her head again and again. She knew that _she _certainly didn't possess this "green thumb." One look at the windowsill was enough to remind herself of _that _fact.

There had to be _someone _she knew who fit the qualifications of the term. Perhaps, Bick? No, definitely not. Nessa? That thought was discarded as soon as it appeared. Fiyero, maybe? No, no. Pfannee and Shenshen? She snorted. Even if they were her friends, the only things that they grew were the cobwebs in their heads.

What was it Fiyero had said? Green thumb…magic…plants…She sighed. Who did she know with a green thumb? Was there _anyone _who possessed that magic touch?

Green thumb, green thumb. She had to think of somebody! She needed these plants to grow and—wait! Magic, green thumb...green hand...green head...green _everything_...

Galinda bolted to her feet, beaming.

"Oh, Elphieeeee!"

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Reviews are greatly appreciated!


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